be able to wrench herself free. “I suppose freezing to death is less painful than dragon fire, and the ice will help the swelling on my elbow, but-”
“Shut up.” Gerta knelt beside Talia. One hand reached out, fingertips tracing Talia’s cheekbones, then moving down the side of her neck. “I couldn’t let you die. I should have, but I couldn’t.”
“I’ll be just as dead from the cold.”
Gerta rapped Talia’s nose. “Why would she do this to me? I understand splitting off her soul, protecting a part of herself so I could be used to stop the demon. But why make me love you?”
“Maybe to stop you from running away once you realized what we had to do?”
Gerta wrinkled her nose. “You smell like dragon spit.”
“Dragon spit?” Talia sniffed. There was a rather foul smell, now that Gerta pointed it out. A combination of mucus and fetid meat.
“It’s one of the ways they hunt,” said Gerta. “By spraying spit over the water. The ripples bring fish to the surface to investigate, and then whoosh.” She pantomimed breathing fire.
If Gerta hadn’t told her to duck… Talia stopped struggling. “Thank you.”
Gerta turned away, searching the water. “Snow was jealous of you, you know.”
Talia stared. “I don’t understand.”
“When you returned from Arathea with your friend Faziya. She watched the two of you, saw how happy you were together.”
Talia’s breathing and heartbeat had gradually slowed as her body realized she was safe, at least for the moment. Now both increased again. “Why? Snow had-”
“Companionship, yes. Not love. When Faziya returned to Arathea and you retreated to your room to pout, that’s when Snow prepared her love potion, one which would allow her to love you the way Faziya did.”
“I wasn’t pouting.”
Gerta rolled her eyes.
Talia relaxed, concentrating on the feel of the frozen spikes of her hair that jabbed her scalp. “So why didn’t she?”
“You know why.” Gerta sounded distant. “She’s always enjoyed the company of men, but have you ever known her to fall in love?”
“Only once. Before she came to Lorindar.”
“Roland,” Gerta agreed. The hunter Snow’s mother had sent into the woods to find her, to cut out Snow’s heart and return it to the queen. Instead, he had fallen in love with Snow, and they had lived together for a time… until the queen found them. Snow had never shared the details of that encounter, only that her mother had tortured Roland to death while Snow lay helpless to stop her. “She was scared, Talia. Scared to lose you the way she lost him. Scared to feel that pain again.”
“I’m not that easy to lose.”
“So I’ve noticed.” Gerta placed her hand over Talia’s, weaving their fingers together. “Look at me, Talia. What do you see?”
Talia looked up. The light Gerta had conjured still glowed faintly from her right hand. Her red hair hung in tangled waves, thicker than Snow’s, but falling in the same way. Dirt smeared her pale skin. Her brown eyes never left Talia. Eyes that held much of the same sadness as her sister’s, though Snow rarely allowed anyone to see it. “I don’t understand.”
“You look at me, and you see her. Like I’m nothing but illusion, and eventually the spell will break and Snow will emerge, safe and whole once more.” She traced her fingertips over Talia’s arm. “She created me from the memories of a sister who never existed. Am I just a repository of her dreams? Am I a weapon to use against her? I don’t know anymore, Talia. But the way I feel when I think about you, when I hear your voice… when I touch you… that’s real.”
“You’d be better off asking Father Isaac those questions,” Talia said. “Even our two-headed friend knows more about magic than-”
“I don’t care about magic. I want to know what- who you see when you look at me.” Tears dripped onto Talia’s chest. “I want you to see me.”
Had Snow ever cried in front of her? Talia instinctively tried to reach for Gerta’s face, but the ice held her fast. “I do see her. The way you lecture me. The excitement and fear in your eyes when you do magic, your forehead wrinkled in concentration, your teeth nibbling your lip.”
Gerta looked away, but not quickly enough to hide her pain at Talia’s words. “It’s intoxicating, rewriting the laws of the universe.”
“Not for you,” said Talia. “You don’t love it the way she does.”
“It frightens me,” Gerta admitted. “If I was created by magic, I can be destroyed the same way. I keep wondering when the universe will realize I was never supposed to exist and take steps to correct that mistake.”
“You’re not her,” Talia said softly. “Snow would have joked about the universe being full of mistakes, like manticores.”
“You have to admit, they’re bizarre-looking creatures,” Gerta said with the hint of a smile.
“I always envied her ability to joke in the midst of danger. Anger, fear, she never let them control her.”
“Snow wouldn’t have run away.” Gerta stared into the darkness.
“She wouldn’t have told me how she felt about me, either.” Talia shivered. The cold felt like it was penetrating to her bones. “Courage comes in different shapes.”
“Maybe I’m just not as smart as her.”
“Go easy on yourself. You’re only two weeks old.”
That earned a laugh, so similar to Snow’s, only somehow… lighter. More free. Gerta pulled away. “Do I look like an infant?”
“No,” Talia said softly.
Gerta reached out again, this time touching her fingertips to Talia’s lips. Her fingers carried the taste of saltwater. She brushed Talia’s chin, sliding down to the hollow in her throat.
Talia’s hand clenched reflexively into a fist, breaking free of the ice.
Gerta jerked back. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t-”
“I know.” Talia’s voice shook. “I don’t like being helpless.”
Gerta folded her hands in her lap. “And I don’t like being told my only purpose is to die.”
Talia closed her eyes, tempted to lie, but Gerta would never believe her. “I can’t leave Snow like this. Even if it means-”
Gerta rubbed her eyes. “I know. I can’t either. She’s my sister.”
The cold was seeping deeper into Talia’s body, making her shiver. “So what do you plan to do with me?”
“What will you do if I free you?”
“I can talk to Bellum and Veleris. Well, to Veleris, anyway. Assuming they don’t kill us on sight. There has to be another way to-”
Gerta put a hand on her lips. “If there were, don’t you think we’d have found it already? Noita, Laurence, Father Isaac… Veleris is right. I’m the key.”
Talia sighed. “I have to save her. But if there’s any way to do so without hurting you, I promise I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Gerta stretched out beside her on the bridge, the warmth of her body pressing against Talia’s side. She moved her hand over Talia’s arm. The ice cracked and broke. Talia started to sit up.
“I’ll go back with you,” said Gerta. “But please let me have this.”
Talia bent her arm, causing bits of ice to flake away from her sleeve. Pain shot through her elbow. She did her best to shut it out as she gently wrapped her arm around Gerta’s shoulders and lay back, closing her eyes. Gerta rested beside her, using her free hand to remove the remaining ice.
“What if one of those dragons comes back?” Talia asked.
She could feel Gerta’s smile. “Let the dragon find its own woman.”
